


To Be of Use

by TalkToMeDevilAgain



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Anal, Dom/sub, F/M, I have a sick mind lol, Mental Hospital, Porn Without Plot, Reader is submissive, Really Really Smutty, Smut, Sorta dubcon but not really, Turn back now haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 15:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkToMeDevilAgain/pseuds/TalkToMeDevilAgain
Summary: Reader has been a mental patient at Arkham for quite some time, and is bored and sex-starved. They can’t help but take notice of a handsome and mysterious new patient. Smut smut smut
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/You, Joker/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	To Be of Use

**Author's Note:**

> I based a lot of this on my own countless visits to mental hospitals. They’re boring and there’s nothing to do, so it’s natural that sex preoccupies your thoughts. I got the idea for this fic when I was in the mental hospital yet again, just a couple of weeks ago. I know that security at an actual, non-fictional mental hospital wouldn’t be this lax and that a male patient with a history of violence wouldn’t be allowed to mingle in the dayroom (common area) with females, but just suspend disbelief for a bit lol. Also, it’s entirely plausible that Reader has no idea who Arthur/Joker is or what he’s done, they typically don’t allow you any access to the news in places like that. I hope you all enjoy, I wrote this from like 3-5 AM and I know there are mistakes and that I probably switch back and forth between past tense and present tense, but I’m proud of this hot, perverted little fic hahaha

It was hard to tell how many hours you’d been sitting in the dayroom. They didn’t keep a clock on the wall, because they knew some of the patients would obsess over it. In fact, the concept of “time” didn’t really seem to exist here. Days just stretched on and bled into each other. You had no idea what was going on in the outside world, as watching the news was forbidden - if the patients here couldn’t handle clocks, they definitely couldn’t handle the news. Apart from the boredom and monotony, you really didn’t mind. You felt better whenever you were locked up: you ate and showered regularly, and your sleep schedule was almost normal. You’d once joked with a friend who was constantly in and out of prison, that the two of you couldn’t resist the allure of “three hots and a cot” - three hot meals a day and a bed. Still, the boredom was a big problem. And the lack of any... stimulation. You desperately needed that. Not “cuddling” or “affection”, god no. As usual, your desires were ravenous and carnal. You’d never been the prettiest or the youngest or the skinniest, at least not in a long time, but you knew what men liked and how to give it to them. They were often able to sense that about you, too. Some of the more handsome and well-built med techs had to avert their gaze when you started eye-fucking them, but you knew they wanted it. Just not enough to lose their jobs over it.

Right now, it wasn’t the med techs who interested you. You weren’t looking at the man seated next to you, but you knew that he was looking at you, and that he didn’t care if you noticed. He’d shown up in the ward a few weeks ago, and the two of you hadn’t talked much. To tell the truth, you’d been nervous, and it wasn’t like you to be nervous around an attractive man, not since your insecure high school days that were long gone. There was something that was just different about this man: dark and handsome (though not exactly tall), thin but with defined muscles, high cheekbones, a faint scar above his lip, and unnervingly green eyes. Your standards had fallen since you’d been locked up in here, and you were so sex-starved that you found yourself fantasizing about employees and other patients who weren’t even your type. But oh god, he was your type, he was the very definition of your type. You’d always preferred the men who were a little less obvious - the tall burly men with the straight white teeth and symmetrical features, the kind who looked like high school quarterbacks, were always your last choice. The man sitting right next to you was the one who’d recently been occupying your thoughts, whenever you retreated to your room and gave yourself orgasm after orgasm to pass the time.

You knew he was looking at you, and it made you squirm in your seat, squeezing your legs together as the tension in your pelvis became unbearable. You knew you were soaking wet, and you wondered if he could smell it. The thought of that just turned you on even more. On the occasions you’d caught him looking at you, as you pretended like you were casually gazing around the room, the hunger in his eyes had startled and excited you. Today you were pretending to be engrossed in an old re-run of Sanford and Son on the tiny dayroom tv, but you knew that he knew better. What was the point in continuing the pretense? The sexual tension had reached its boiling point. You made up your mind, and without taking your eyes from the tiny TV bolted to the wall, you slowly reached out your hand and placed a single index finger on his knee. The restless bouncing of his leg stopped, and you gently ran your finger over the top of his thigh, from the knee almost to his groin, and back again. You were barely touching him, but you knew he had to be getting hard.

You kept this up for what was probably only a minute or so, but what seemed like hours. Despite the loud screeching of the TV, you could hear only your breath and his, both growing slower and deeper as your arousal increased. Suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, firm and powerful, and he leaned into you to whisper in your ear. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he breathed, and he nibbled your earlobe for a split second before returning to his former position as if nothing had happened. You audibly moaned, though no one noticed - no one here ever noticed anything, as the patients were too caught up in their own worlds and the med techs and nurses never stopped gossiping and joking around amongst themselves. It was like you were the only two people in the world. You finally met his gaze, and his green eyes seemed as if they’d turned black. He looked like he wanted to devour you, and it was the most erotic thing you’d ever seen. You couldn’t handle it anymore - you abruptly got up from your seat so you could go to your room and release yourself, over and over. You didn’t have a choice in the matter, you knew that you’d explode like a dying star if you didn’t. When you reached the door, you looked back at him one last time: his arms were crossed, and he was smirking at you. You nearly ran to your room, desperate for relief.

You guessed it was around midnight, though you had no way of knowing. As usual you couldn’t sleep, and the sleeping pills they gave you each night didn’t help, as you’d long since developed a tolerance to them. Orgasm after orgasm had left you soaking wet, but despite your skill at pleasuring yourself, you still hadn’t found the relief you needed. You wanted the dark-haired man with the green eyes to make use of your wet and willing holes, to just use you as a fuck toy, rough and hard and punishingly. You knew most people didn’t think like this, that they would want to take things slower and more gently. They would want to kiss, and receive oral sex, and maybe even cuddle afterwards. Those things all seemed alien and deeply uncomfortable to you, but then again, if you were “most people” you wouldn’t be locked up in a place like this to begin with. There was nothing to do here, and nothing to think about, so you had no choice but to retreat into your own fantasy world. You couldn’t stop re-living that moment, over and over in your head like a video tape, when he’d whispered threateningly into your ear and given your earlobe a little bite. God, you hoped he intended to make good on his threat.

The door creaked open, and you jumped, pulling the sheets to cover your naked body. The door was always ajar, as the nurses had to do rounds every hour or so, so there was no point in shutting it. You really didn’t want a nurse to see you naked and horny, so you flipped over and faced the wall, unconvincingly trying to pretend you were asleep. The door pushed open all the way, and you knew it wasn’t a nurse, you just knew, though you didn’t dare face the approaching footsteps and spoil the moment. An elegant, masculine hand reached out and pulled the blankets down to your knees. The hand reached beneath your thighs, and found your wet pussy - those elegant fingers slid in, and pulled out with an audible pop. You gave up all pretense of being asleep, and looked up and locked eyes with the dark-haired man. You’d never seen someone look so hungry, and you imagined that his expression was mirrored on your face. Never breaking eye contact with you, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked your wetness from the fingers that had just been inside you. You moaned just like earlier, but louder and more urgent.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, you were pulled out of bed and bent over the simple wooden dresser that was one of the only furnishings in your sterile room. Before you had time to process what was happening, the man with the green eyes had started spanking you, though describing it with a word as simple as “spanking” didn’t seem right. This wasn’t the playful and somewhat reluctant teasing of some twenty-something boytoy, with whom you’d begged and pleaded to add something spicy to the vanilla missionary sex that he preferred. This was rapid, brutal, and punishing, and you had to bite down on your fist to avoid yelling loud enough to attract the attention of an employee. It fulfilled a primal and instinctual need in you, that you couldn’t possibly find the words to explain. The punishment seemed to go on for hours, and you knew your ass was bright red by that point: claimed by him, marked by him. You knew you’d bear these marks for days, and the thought of it somehow made you even wetter than before.

Another rough shove, and you were off the dresser, down to your bare knees on the cold linoleum floor. He was still wearing the standard issue white scrubs that every other patient wore, and the thought of you being naked and exposed before him while he was still fully-clothed, kneeling beneath him as he stood looking down at you, made your pussy throb. You looked up at him as if he were a god, tears of pleasure and pain screaming from your eyes, and he spoke for the first time since he’d quietly entered your room. “I’m tired of you teasing me, you stupid little slut. And I’m tired of the way you look at the other men here. Do you think I don’t notice? I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days, and when I’m finished you’ll know that you belong to me. Is that understood?” You nodded, and when that doesn’t seem to satisfy him, you managed to eke out a simple “Yes”. That earned you a slap on the face that almost made you see stars. “Yes what, whore?” You understood what he wanted. “Yes sir,” you replied. “Good. You’re learning,” he said, and laughed in a way that you’d never heard anyone laugh before.

Still looking down on you, naked and kneeling, he ran his hand through your hair, cupped your cheek in a way that was almost gentle, and pried your lips apart with his rough thumb. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, and you eagerly obliged as he reached for the waistband of his pants and pulled them down just low enough to expose his hard, impressive cock. With a rough thrust he was in your mouth, and you were in heaven. He tasted like precum and smelled like sex. You instantly went to work, utilizing your years of experience in getting men off. It had never seemed like a chore to you, and you couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t enjoy it. He put his hand on the back of your head, tangling it in your hair, as he slowly and almost gently started fucking your mouth. At one point he removed himself from your mouth, thumped his dick against your face a few times, and used the tip to spread precum around your mouth like messy lipstick, before re-entering you. You reached up a hand and cupped his balls, starting to massage them as your expert mouth took his cock in, over and over. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that, and while he was clearly struggling to maintain his composure, he let out an involuntary moan that deeply excited you.

You didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer like this, and he clearly seemed to agree, as you suddenly found yourself being pulled from the floor by your wrists and shoved up against the cool, sterile white wall. He used one hand to pin your wrists in place above your head with his considerable strength, while the other hand pinched your nipples and roughly squeezed and slapped at your tits. He stopped working on your tits and suddenly entered you, gliding through your wetness with ease, slow at first, then fucking you at a frenzied pace as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. While never ceasing the frantic pace of his thrusts, he leaned in as if to whisper something like he had earlier that day, then took your sensitive earlobe into his mouth and started working it with his teeth. By that point you weren’t even moaning, just mewling helplessly like a lost cat, caught up in pain and ecstasy. He pounded endlessly into your pelvis in a way that released the tension that had been building there for months, making you come completely undone as you orgasmed around his cock, again biting your fist so you wouldn’t scream and get both of you caught. He didn’t seem anywhere close to being finished, though. “You fucking belong to me,” he breathed into your ear. “I’m going to prove it to you.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, hadn’t he already proved it to you? For the first time you felt a sense of trepidation, that formed an intoxicating mixture with the blind lust that had already taken over your senses. He pulled out of you and gently but firmly guided you to your bed, laying you down face first with your ass hanging over the edge. You felt his tip gently nudge against the sensitive, erogenous bundle of nerves that surrounded your other hole, the one that most men seemed to be afraid of. You nearly screamed with anticipation: you’d done this before but it had been a while, though you often explored this area on your own time. The secret that most people didn’t realize was that being filled in that hole felt like pure, utter domination. That there was no better way to belong to someone, body and soul, than to give up this part of yourself to them. For what seemed like an eternity he rubbed the head of his cock between both holes, and you eventually realized that he was using your own natural lubricants to prepare you for him.

When the tip of his dick broached your barrier, he seemed to understand how important it was to take this slowly, letting you adjust to his size. After an interminable amount of time he began steadily pushing in and out, and the sensation was so pleasurable and intense that you buried your face in your mattress and writhed and screamed as your hands grasped at the sheets. He reached out and took one of your hands into his firm grip, never breaking his slow but relentless pace. He lowered his body onto yours and murmured, “God, you feel so fucking tight. I own you. I’ll always own you. I’ll never let you forget that.” You nodded and replied submissively, “Yes sir. I’m yours. I’m only yours. Thank you for teaching me who I belong to.” That seemed to excite him, and his thrusting grew faster, though he was obviously trying to control it. Your fingers snaked down to your clit as he continued to fuck you in the ass, and you started teasing at yourself, determined to come at the same time he did.

At this moment you felt complete bliss. The mysterious dark-haired man, whose name you still didn’t know, had claimed you as his. He’d marked your body and used all of your holes for his pleasure. You knew you’d both be locked up in here for a long time, and that security was pretty lax at night. The employees were underpaid and overworked, and even if he were caught sneaking into your room you knew he wouldn’t face any real consequences. There was no limit to the amount of times he could claim you like this. You were useful to him, and being used like this was your dream. A smile grew across your face, as his thrusting and your ministrations to your clit reached their climax. You let out a muffled yell into the mattress as you climax, and feel yourself be filled with that familiar hot liquid. He collapses on your body and the two of you pant in unison, his cock still inside of you. You both know he can’t stay much longer before getting caught and scolded, but you commit every detail of this moment to memory so that it will last forever. He gently kisses you on your cheek, and you’re so happy you could cry.


End file.
